


How to Follow Orders

by airspaniel



Series: Primatech Training [1]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Power Dynamics, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-17
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Perhaps it would be more useful," Nakamura mused.  "To first focus on your obedience, and let the spoken language... come later."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Follow Orders

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may remember my Primatech training fics:  
> [Practical Japanese for the Businessman](http://yumemiru-kikai.livejournal.com/8279.html) (Nakamura/Bennet)  
> [Lesson Two: Vocabulary & Review](http://yumemiru-kikai.livejournal.com/8960.html) (Nakamura/Bennet/Claude, sort of)  
> and [The Fine Art of Negotiation](http://yumemiru-kikai.livejournal.com/9915.html) (Nakamura/Bennet/Thompson, most definitely)  
> Two years later, this is another one of those. 0_o Technically it happens before any of the others, so you don't have to read them to read this, but y'know, if you want more context. ^_^ Comments/crit always appreciated!

The memo had instructed him to arrive in conference room B, remove his jacket, tie and shirt, place his hands against the wall, and wait for further instruction.

Yeah, like that was gonna happen.

Instead Claude leaned against the grey brick wall, smoking a cigarette and staring at nothing, eager for this "lesson" to be over so he could get back to work. Real work, out in the field. That's what he was here to do, right? Not play diplomat and speak Japanese, of all things.

A whip cracked deafeningly close to his ear, and the cigarette flew from his lips, landing in a sad little spray of sparks halfway across the room.

"That's a terrible habit, Mr. Rains. Very dangerous, you know."

Kaito Nakamura stepped into the room, coiling the whip into a thick braided ring around his fist. "And I believe I left you a certain set of instructions."

Claude stood up straight, a little intimidated. "I... You can't be serious, sir."

"As the grave. And in the classroom you will refer to me as sensei." He thought for a moment, and the barest hint of a smile played at his lips. "Or, if you prefer, Nakamura-san. Now, shall we begin?"

Claude shrugged noncommittally. "If you like." Nakamura stared at him intensely and expectantly.

"Nakamura-san. Right."

Still his boss stared.

"Uh... Yes, Nakamura-san."

"I'm merely waiting for you to... Comply with my earlier instructions." Nakamura's voice was impassive.

Claude's arms crossed over his chest. "I just don't see how taking my clothes off is going to make me speak Japanese."

"Remove your shirt, Mr. Rains," Nakamura ordered, eyes flashing danger. "It is likely that I'll make you say all sorts of things."

Claude did not like the way that sounded. Reluctantly he peeled his jacket off, dropping it to the floor.

"Now, now, no need to be untidy," Nakamura chided, and Claude obediently picked up the jacket, rolling his eyes as he folded it and placed it ceremoniously on the table. He raised his eyebrows, sarcastically seeking Nakamura's approval. When the man nodded, he loosened his tie, slowly undoing the knot and pulling it free of his collar.

"Not that I don't appreciate the show, but yours is not the only lesson I have to administer today." Nakamura flicked the whip in two quick movements too fast to see, and Claude could only stand there dumbly as the buttons of his shirt popped off and the garment was ripped from his shoulders.

"Oi!" he yelled, "That was a brand new..." He was cut off by a hand on the back of his neck forcibly introducing his face to the cinderblock wall.

"I have had enough of your attitude, Mr. Rains," Nakamura hissed in Claude's ear, pressed so close that Claude could feel the man's slight stubble scratch against his skin as he spoke. "I do not carry this whip for parlor tricks. Now, repeat after me: kitte kudasai."

"K-kitte kudasai." Claude stammered.

"Itte kudasai."

"Itte kudasai."

"Good. The first means you listen to me. The second means you speak, and do it promptly. If you do not understand, say 'wakarimasen' and I will explain it to you." He let the whip uncoil once again, and the leather hit the floor with a quiet tap that made Claude's blood run cold.

"If you understand, say 'hai, sensei.' You may not speak in English."

Claude's pulse was pounding loud in his ears, but he nodded, cheek rubbing against the cold wall.

"Kitte kudasai, Mr. Rains."

"Hai, sensei," Claude said, trying like hell to sound confident and defiant.

Nakamura smiled. "I could get used to that." His voice dropped to a low murmur, "Mou ichidou, onegai. Once more, if you please."

"Hai, sensei." Claude shivered. The room was too chilly to be standing around shirtless. It had nothing to do with the way Nakamura's voice sounded in his native tongue; deeper and more liquid, a dark purr that rumbled down his spine, breath a hot whisper against his ear.

"Perhaps it would be more useful," Nakamura mused. "To first focus on your obedience, and let the spoken language... come later."

Claude swallowed hard.

"I sent you very clear instructions, Mr. Rains. Instructions that were not followed."

"Well, I..." The whip cracked down sharply, and Claude shut his mouth.

"No English!" Nakamura demanded, coiling the whip around his hand once more. "I will not tolerate any further insubordination. When I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed. Do you understand?"

"Hai, sensei." Claude may have been kind of angry and more than a little confused, but he wasn't stupid.

"Remove your belt and brace your hands on the wall."

"Mr. Naka... Nakamura-san, I..."

"Do it now, Claude, or I will do it for you."

Claude's belt buckle clanked to the ground, and his pants sagged just a little on his narrow hips as he lifted his arms up and out. He could feel the tips of his ears going red, and hoped Nakamura hadn't noticed.

A broad hand spread over the small of his back and he gasped sharply. Nakamura made no sound, merely stroked his hand across Claude's side; around the jut of his hipbone to rest against the fly of his pants.

And bloody hell, there was no way the man wasn't going to notice _that_. And when had that happened, anyway? It didn't seem important, though, when Nakamura's deft fingers popped the button of his trousers free and began slowly easing the zipper down.

Nakamura spoke again, but Claude was finding it hard - finding it _difficult_ \- to focus on the words; distracted by the almost-there brush of a thumb over his...

"Itte kudasai," Nakamura prompted, and _shit_ , Claude hadn't even heard what it was he'd been asked to respond to. He heard the worn leather of the whip fall against the floor again and Christ, _what was it he was supposed to say?_

"Uh wakarimasen?"

The wicked chuckle against the back of his neck didnt do much to ease Claude's tension. "Very good, Mr. Rains," said Nakamura, and pressed the palm of his hand firmly against Claude's erection, teasing him for a long moment before pushing his boxers aside and stroking him in earnest.

Claude bit his lip, trying like hell to listen to what Nakamura was saying this time. Distraction or no, he was pretty sure the man would take the whip to him hard if he missed it.

Worse than that, he might _stop_.

"What I was saying," he continued, as if he weren't slowly driving Claude mad. "It is my wish that you see how gratifying obedience can be. And that you never again question my authority. Do you understand?"

"Hai sensei," Claude growled, embarrassingly breathless. Nakamura laughed again and tightened his grip.

"And are you going to obey me now?" Faster and harder, and it was so goddamned _good_.

 _"Hai, sensei."_

"Then come for me, Mr. Rains". And Claude's body obeyed immediately, leaving him choking on a helpless noise as he bucked into Nakamura's hand.

 _Fuck. This_ was unexpected.

Claude leaned heavily against the wall, panting for breath. He couldnt help the small, undignified noise he made as Nakamura pulled his hand away, fingers deliberately dragging over the sticky, hyper-sensitive head of Claude's dick.

Claude's knees buckled, just a little bit, and Nakamura laughed; wiping his hands on a white silk handkerchief. "I trust you will remember this lesson for next time, Mr. Rains?"

Oh, aye. He'd remember all right. Whether he wanted to or not.

Claude didnt lift his eyes from the floor. "Hai, Nakamura-san."

Nakamura slid a possessive hand over Claude's back, and his damned traitorous body leaned into the contact.

"Good boy," Nakamura finished, patting Claude's rear in a decidedly condescending fashion as he turned to leave. "Then I will see you next week. And next week, I will no longer go easy on you."

Bloody hell, if _this_ was _easy_.

Claude was really starting to have second thoughts about working for Primatech.  



End file.
